


Almost lovers

by torres



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torres/pseuds/torres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel and Fernando struggle to define their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost lovers

I.

It had started innocently enough.

It was three in the morning and Dan was wandering around the club alone. Carra had passed out on one of the chairs, bottle of whiskey still hugged tightly to his chest. Crouch had announced that they should invade the dancefloor, and Daniel pointedly turned down the offer (Crouch frowned and said, “But look at what you’re missing!” Then he started doing his robot dance, except in a really drunk way which was scary and potentially life-threatening with all those limbs flailing around).

The defender tried to find somewhere to hang out until the team decided to leave, so he went upstairs to the VIP area. Walking into the section reserved for the team, he was greeted by the lovely sight of Stevie and Xabi on one of the couches making out. Torridly.

“Don’t look so shocked,” a voice greeted and Dan broke out of his trance. Harry was sitting over in one of the other couches, and a few metres away was that new signing, Fernando.

“Have they been at it the whole night?”

“Pretty much,” Harry said, offering Dan a beer from the bucket.

“And you were just here?”

“It makes for a very good show,” Harry winked.

“And Fernando?” Dan asked, dropping his tone.

Harry looked up at the shy Spaniard, keeping to himself and sipping his drink quietly. “He doesn’t talk much. I think he’s still settling in.”

“I’ll help him settle in,” Dan smirked mischievously at Harry.

“Are you serious?” Harry bellowed.

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about it,” Dan grunted defensively.

“First of all,” Harry scoffed, “I have a wife, so, no, I haven’t thought of bedding Fernando Torres—”

“Shhh,” Dan hissed, looking around and fearing the striker would hear them.

“And secondly,” Harry continued, “Can’t you wait? It’s his first week here!”

Dan crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

“Why isn’t Finns here?” Harry changed the subject.

“Finns ‘didn’t feel like it,’” Dan muttered sarcastically.

“It seems like Finns doesn’t feel like doing a lot of things recently,” Harry teased, receiving a glare from the Dane. “Don’t rub it in, Kewell.”

“So because Finns isn’t here, Fernando’s your new target?”

“We broke up a long time ago.”

“You guys sure don’t act like it,” Harry chided. “If you weren’t together anymore, why are you pissed he’s not here tonight?”

“The point is,” Dan said loudly, refusing to continue that topic, “I’m horny. And that,” he pointed to their teammates (Stevie had overpowered Xabi sometime in their conversation and the Basque was now on his back, their captain atop him, lips travelling all over Xabi’s neck), “Is not helping me at all.”

Harry briefly glanced at the growing bulge in Dan’s pants and smirked. “Good luck sorting that out.”

Dan smirked arrogantly. “Yes, and if I’m lucky, I won’t have to do it myself.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as Dan stood up, grabbed another ice-cold beer from the bucket and headed over to where Fernando was seated. He watched the defender come up behind him then offer the Spaniard a drink. Fernando smiled—a slow, seductive smile—and Harry wondered if Daniel was the only one mischievous in this situation.

“You and me, babe,” Dan whispered lowly to Fernando’s ear. He sensed him shudder, “How about it?”

Dan wasn’t sure whether Fernando understand what he said, but what he was sure of was that Fernando was not new to these things. The Spaniard looked up, his brown eyes so dark they were almost black, then he nodded curtly.

Dan shot a triumphant grin at a miffed Harry stuck on the couch with his beer, seemingly torn between remaining the morally-upright teammate and allowing himself to be excited at the prospect of another live show to watch.

Fernando was already waiting for him, casually leaning against the wall of a secluded spot in the VIP section. It was dim there, with a faint little light above him, almost casting a spotlight effect on the Spaniard looking at him intensely, smiling oh-so-innocently but anticipation wafting off him in waves.

“Here?” Dan asked, having no problem at all with stealing a love scene in public but a little surprised that the newcomer was more risqué than he seemed.

“Si,” Fernando simply said.

Dan’s cock throbbed urgently. He didn’t waste any more time for pleasantries. They both knew what this was about. The images of Xabi and Stevie were still burnt on his mind, and his last argument with Finns made him all the more frustrated. He kissed Fernando fiercely, and the Spaniard didn’t complain at the intensity or the pace. He responded with just as much fervour, their tongues fighting furiously.

He let his mouth travel down, finding Fernando’s pulse and started sucking. The Spaniard moaned and it sent shivers running up and down Dan’s spine. Dan felt nervous for a split-second, in the midst of his dizzying haze of desire. This was nothing new. Looking for a fuck when Finns was missing in action was starting to become a regular occurrence. But somehow, Dan only got impossibly harder and harder with every broken Spanish phrase Fernando panted to his ear. Fernando just moved, grinded his hips against Daniel’s, and he wanted to come right there and then. He hadn’t even touched him yet.

Dan broke away, alarm bells sounding off in his head, but he didn’t know what they meant. Fernando looked at him, half-confused, half-impatient. Dan stared back at him: eyes so dark they were black, lips wet and red. Pushing the doubts to the back of his mind and placing his hands securely on Fernando’s hips, he decided that right now, there was nothing more he wanted to have.

II.

“How can they do that?” Xabi hissed at Stevie.

“How can who do what?” Stevie asked tiredly, placing his head down on Xabi’s shoulder, the slow movement of their coach lulling him into sleep.

“There, Danny and Fernando,” Xabi explained.

Stevie sat up laboriously and craned his neck up and down the bus to look for their two teammates. The lights were dimmed so people could sleep, knackered after their away game.

“What’s wrong?” Stevie asked cluelessly. “They’re just talking.”

“No, I’ve been watching them!” Xabi said urgently. “They’ve been comparing music and exchanging iPods,” he said gravely and Stevie missed the point.

“...I don’t get it.”

“How can they be acting normal? Like... like friends?” Xabi demanded. “They were making out in the showers earlier!”

Stevie laughed and shook his head. Xabi frowned, “This is a big deal.”

“No, it’s not,” the Scouser replied, leaning against Xabi and closing his eyes again. “Dan and Nando are young, but I think their agreement is pretty clear.”

“What? They agree to fuck when it’s convenient for them and when they’re not, they can pretend like nothing’s happened?”

“Yes, Xabi,” Stevie yawned. “It’s possible to be fuck buddies and just friends at the same time.”

“But what if they—”

“They won’t,” Stevie answered. “Or if they do, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Xabi didn’t answer, but he still looked bothered. After sneaking another suspicious glance at Daniel and Fernando, he finally let it go.

III.

“Holy shit!”

“I knew it was a bad thing that Carra taught you those swear words,” Dan stopped shaving and called out to the Spaniard.

“You didn’t wake me up, Agger!” Fernando shouted and Dan checked the watch. Ten minutes until call time for team breakfast down at the lobby.

“You were dead to the world, Torres.”

“Well, if you didn’t fuck me so thoroughly last night,” Fernando bellowed.

“What, you didn’t ask for it?” Dan challenged.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Fernando was saying and Dan could vaguely hear things being thrown around in the room. He could imagine Fernando scurrying around, bedsheet wrapped low on his hips, looking for clean clothes.

Dan returned to shaving in silence, carefully gliding the razor down the side of his face, smoothly taking off the cream and the stubble with each stroke. Until, a blonde hurricane blasted through the bathroom door.

“Torres!” Dan clutched his heart with one hand and his razor with the other. “I fucking almost cut myself shaving!”

But Fernando wasn’t answering. He was already whipping off his boxers—well, Daniel’s boxers—and hopping into the shower.

“Fernando!” Dan shouted, eyes wide. “I’m using the bathroom!”

Fernando poked his head out of the shower, hair dripping all over the floor, “You’re shaving. I’m taking a bath. Why is this a problem?”

Dan gaped. “The shower walls are made of glass. I can see you taking a bath.”

Fernando rolled his eyes and returned to shampooing his hair. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Dan waved around his razor, spluttering, “Nothing I haven’t seen while drunk or horny!”

“What’s your point?” Fernando asked.

The shower panes were starting to get fogged up and Dan could not fight the temptation to tilt his head to the side to get a better look of Fernando arching back against the jets of hot water, thoroughly running his fingers through his hair.

“Daniel?” Fernando prompted. His eyes were closed as he washed the lather off his hair, but he didn’t hear a response to his last question.

“Uh, nothing,” Dan muttered, pulling his gaze away and tried to shave in peace, sneaking glances at the mirror to watch Fernando taking a bath.

IV.

“So, are you and Daniel...?” Alvaro asked.

“Are me and Daniel what?” Fernando asked back obliviously.

Alvaro looked at Daniel on the other side of the cafeteria, giving him nasty glares. “You know, together?”

Fernando laughed, “No!”

Alvaro’s eyebrows raised so high, they almost disappeared into his curly, black hair. “You’re not even sleeping together?”

Fernando frowned and tried to recall, “We slept together before, but we stopped doing that already.”

“Why?”

The striker shrugged, “It was just a brief phase. We’re just really good friends now.”

“Really good friends?” Alvaro teased.

“Yes. We just have a lot of things in common,” Fernando explained honestly. “Why, what’s up?”

Alvaro shrugged and smiled shyly, “Uh, nothing.”

*

“Why are you back so late?”

Fernando stopped on his way to his bedroom, passing a very angry Daniel in his living room. “Why are you here?”

“I was waiting for you!” Dan accused, “And I saw you getting out of Arbeloa’s car.”

Fernando shrugged nonchalantly, “We just had dinner and a couple of drinks.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed, “Was it a date?”

Fernando shrugged again, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“How could you?” Dan demanded, shoving the striker.

“How could I?” Fernando shoved him back, “You’ve been going out with Steve Finnan every day of the past month. Don’t you think I noticed?”

Dan stopped. “Wait, I—”

“I never complained,” Fernando said coldly. “I know my place. Maybe you should know yours too.” He whirled on his heel, stomped up to his room and slammed the door with a resounding bang.

*

“What happened to you?” A voice demanded angrily over his cellphone.

Fernando cringed and tried to make his way through the crowded airport carefully, without applying too much pressure on his leg.

“I heard you were flying back to Liverpool,” Dan was seething. “What happened?”

“Hi, Daniel, I didn’t know we were talking to each other already,” Fernando said calmly, rolling his stroller behind him. There was a tiny flutter in his stomach. Since their argument, they hadn’t talked in a week or so, and he had gotten call-up to Spain so they hadn’t been able to meet up in a while either.

“Why are you coming back?” Dan nagged, “Are you injured? Who did this to you?”

“I’m coming back because I missed you,” Fernando rolled his eyes, walking to the waiting area and dropping to the bench tiredly.

“I’m being serious, Fernando,” Dan said, worry evident in his tone.

Fernando laughed, “So was I, Daniel.”

V.

Pepe didn’t know who Daniel was fooling, but if he thought he was still in control of this... thing he had with Fernando, he was dead wrong.

You see, Fernando was never the aggressive one in the relationship. Or at least, he wasn’t the blatantly aggressive one. Pepe knew Fernando was always the one who held the power.

The goalkeeper watched as Fernando sat down on the carpeted floor of Stevie’s hotel room, tired after a long training session and struggling to stay awake for the long-winded team meeting. Daniel sat on the couch above the striker, smiling down at him understandingly.

“This is going to be done soon,” Dan said with this tone of gentleness Pepe has never heard from him before.

Fernando whimpered, “I wanna go to bed already, Danny.” He lay his head down on Dan’s lap sleepily, fingers picking at the lint on Dan’s jogging pants. Dan laughed and played with Fernando’s hair absent-mindedly.

Pepe shook his head. Dan was foolish to go onto this unlabelled relationship with Fernando, a gray area where they told themselves they were “friends.” And when things got sexual, they were “friends with benefits.” And when things got intimate, they were “just really good friends.”

Now, Dan might have thought he was control, that he had set defined borders for both of them, but Pepe knew—as he’s seen over the years—it wouldn’t been soon until Fernando was able to inadvertently lure someone closer than he had originally planned. Daniel had better be careful.

VI.

A knock on their hotel room door interrupted their conversation. Fernando got off his bed and volunteered, “I’ll get it.”

When he opened the door, the Spaniard gasped. Then, he broke into a nervous smile, “Oh. Hi, Stephen.”

“Hi, Fernando,” Finns smiled back politely. “Is Daniel there?”

Fernando nodded and called out, “Dan, Finns is here for you!” He stopped and opened the door wider, “Do you want to come in?”

Finns shook his head, “No thanks. I kind of need to talk to him in private anyway.”

“Oh,” Fernando said, his face was crest-fallen but he forced a smile anyway.

“Finns,” Dan asked a little breathlessly, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” the Irishman laughed. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Dan glanced at Fernando, who avoided his gaze. The striker just announced, “I’m going off to bed. Nice seeing you, Stephen.”

Finns waved at him before looking at Dan expectantly. The Dane followed the older man out to the hallway.

“What’s up?” Dan asked nervously.

“Nothing, I just missed talking to you,” Finns smiled and leaned in to give Dan a kiss. Dan laughed awkwardly and flinched, making Finns miss and end up kissing his cheek instead. Dan laughed again, “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you so jumpy?” Finns asked, rubbing the small of Dan’s back in an effort to calm him down.

Dan shrugged, “Long day, I guess?”

Finns nodded, “I’ll go ahead and ask you then, so you can go back to sleep. Do you want to go out tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

Dan’s face broke into a shy smile, “Uh, sure. Of course.”

“Great,” Finns beamed. Dan nodded giddily and made his way back into his room, before Finns called out, “Won’t Fernando mind?”

“Of course not,” Dan answered a little too quickly. “Why would he?”

“I don’t know,” the Irishman shrugged. “You tell me why he wouldn’t be jealous.”

Dan struggled for words, “I mean, we were sort of sleeping together before but we’re just good friends now.”

Finns raised an eyebrow at Dan’s unconvincing argument. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but—”

“But what?” Dan challenged, going on the defensive now.

“Are you sure your relationship with Fernando is still all fun and games?”

Dan’s jaw dropped.

Finns tried to explain carefully. “Usually, when you’re physically intimate with someone and you’re also emotionally close to a person...”

“Well?”

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you were—”

“Don’t,” Dan held up a finger, his eyes glinting dangerously, “Even say it.”

Finns was taken aback, but he just shrugged, “Whatever you say.”

Dan nodded and took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

*

When Dan went back inside to the room he shared with Fernando, all the lights were switched off already. He didn’t have any sense or energy to turn on the bedside lamp either. Instead, he just felt his way to his bed.

He lay there for a long time, staring at the ceiling. He wanted to think of his date tomorrow with Finns, but instead, Finns’ words just reverberated in his mind.

He heard a rustle by the bed beside his. He found himself grinning, imagining Fernando tossing and turning like he always did when he couldn’t sleep and ending up invariably tangled in his sheets.

“Fernando?” He called out.

The room remained silent.

“Fernando, I know you’re still awake. I can hear you moving.”

“What did Finns want?” The Spaniard finally asked after a long pause.

Dan picked at his covers, “A date.”

“Oh.”

“We’re meeting up tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Fernando said quietly.

Dan felt a little tug on his heart and he knew he shouldn’t. He propped himself up on one elbow and tried to talk to the silhouette a few metres away.

“If we start going out on real dates,” Dan began, talking more to himself than to Fernando, “I might fall in love with him again.”

A small sigh and then, “Okay.”

Dan fell back on the cushions again and wondered why he didn’t feel happier than he should—why, in fact, it felt like there was a huge weight on his chest.

“If you get back together with Finns, like, for real this time,” Fernando spoke up, “...Don’t talk to me anymore.” And the words were more a request than a threat.

“Are you... sad?” Dan asked, laughing a little.

Fernando chuckled too, “No. I know you’ll end up missing me anyway.”

“Oh, really?” Dan scoffed in the dark, a smile playing on his face at their banter, “I’ve dumped a lot of boys, Fernando. What’ll make you different?”

Fernando took a long time to respond, but he finally said, “You never dumped me, Daniel.” He added after a few seconds, but in a quiet tone, it was almost inaudible, “We were never together.”

*

Finns was jolted out of his sleep at the sound of his phone beeping and vibrating against the night table. Groaning, he blindly reached out for it and opened the new message, blinking at the strong, harsh light.

It was from Daniel.

_“You were right, Finns. I am going to have to cancel for tomorrow. Sorry.”_

*

“Fernando?”

“Hmm?” The Spaniard asked sleepily.

“...Can I climb into bed with you?” Dan asked.

Fernando laughed, “Sure.”

Tugging his pillows and blankets, he trudged up to Fernando’s bed and they both struggled to make everything fit.

“I feel like a marshmallow,” Fernando giggled, drowning in a sea of pillows and duvets.

Daniel smiled and patted his hair down fondly. Fernando’s forehead furrowed, “What is it?”

“Fernando, what if I don’t get together with Finns?”

“Why won’t you?” The striker asked, “He’s all you used to talk about.”

Dan shifted to his side and looked at Fernando intensely. “I’m not sure I can find any good reason to go back to him.”

Fernando played with the collar of Dan’s shirt, “You have every good reason to.”

Dan paused. Then took a deep breath. “But, what if I don’t want to anymore?”

Fernando stopped. And it seemed for a second like he didn’t hear it right. But he took one look at Dan’s tentative but serious expression, and he finally understood. He smiled softly, “If you don’t want to anymore, you can always just stay,” he paused, breathing, “Here.”

Dan shook his head, laughing to himself, feeling relieved and so much lighter now. “You’re going to be heartbreaker, Fernando Torres.”

He collected Fernando in his embrace and pulled him closer, burying his face in his hair. Daniel didn’t know what this was about and what he just started but he knew he had to do it. He scanned his mind for reasons, motivations, any semblance of rationality to this, but he came up with none he could name.

It was the tingling sensation on his fingertips when he felt Fernando’s bare skin. It was the incomplete feeling he had when he entertained the thought of returning to Finns. It was that nagging jealousy when he watched Fernando attract every male and female in the room. And it was that quiet contentment of falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was that which Daniel could not name, for that would mean admitting that he had begun to love him.


End file.
